"When I said 'degenerates', I meant that to include all of us." Naea smiled and unfolded her napkin to lay across her lap. She liked Pierce. He seemed very much to be the father/brother/uncle/older male influence she'd always wanted but never really had. Sure, David was older, but the relationship was (very obviously) very different. He was very different.
She sighed at the mention of David, moving her hands out of the way as their meals arrived (weren't lunchtime speeds great?) and inhaled the wonderful aroma, which seemed to calm her a bit. Naea picked up her fork and tapped it gently on the table. "I think it'll be fun, regardless." She knew that if David found out about this little outing, he'd likely not talk to her for a week, but there were just some things he was going to have to get over or tell her just what in the hell the problem was to begin with. "I can't drink, but maybe I can entertain with a song or two on my guitar. Hendrix, I am not, but maybe I can channel a little Joni Mitchell. And depress everybody." The dark-haired girl laughed softly and offered her own smile to Pierce.
The fork sunk into her grilled polenta with a bit of a crunch and Naea smiled as though someone had begun to rub her shoulders as she tasted it. Oh, heaven! in an Italian corn dish...